


Old Friends Who Just Met

by princeofhell777



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Sex, Episode: s04e17 It's a Terrible Life, M/M, One Night Stands, Soulless Sam Winchester, psuedo incest, sex against a window
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-04
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-17 03:15:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29835177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/princeofhell777/pseuds/princeofhell777
Summary: Dean Smith has been sober for two years, but something seems to drag him out for a beer after work, for better or for worse.Alt: Soulless Sam picks up Dean Smith at a bar.
Relationships: Dean Smith/Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester
Comments: 2
Kudos: 48





	Old Friends Who Just Met

Dean Smith had called off drinking two years ago. He felt like he was relying too much on it, it was giving him a gut, every excuse in the book because damn him if he wasn’t going to be better. He’d been on every health plan in the book, every little thing he could do to improve himself, work his way up the corporate ladder and be that perfect apple pie man. 

But he was human, and humans always had their downfalls. So it wasn’t that much of a surprise when he found himself at a bar for the first time in a year- and the first time he had a beer in a long time- that last year he just went for Jo’s birthday, he didn’t even touch a drink. 

He just happened to catch sight of someone at the other end of the bar- an absolute tree trunk of a man, stacked up over 6 feet of muscle, a nice face and a look towards a woman that Dean couldn’t even pinpoint between wanting to tear her apart and wanting to fuck her past next Wednesday. Probably both, if he was being honest. 

He hadn’t touched his beer, the guilt weighing on him, but if that guy could get so damn fit while still downing shots, Dean could take one beer, for old times sake. He glanced at the other man a few times, but kept to himself, mostly. A few words to the bartender, nothing too over the top. He really didn’t want anyone to know he was there. 

Soon enough, though, he caught another glance at the man- he was three stools closer now, and Dean knew that couldn’t have been a coincidence. The guy was quiet, though, Dean was startled by the fact that he didn’t even hear him move. By the time he got back to his drink, he was next to him, and Dean caught his eyes as he looked up, left stunned momentarily.

The guy was even more gorgeous up close, Dean would give him that, and if that didn’t keep him from saying something about him backing off, the fact that he talked first might have. 

“You don’t look comfortable. I can offer somewhere you’d probably like better.” The man smirked at him, and Dean felt himself melt. He didn’t do hookups anymore, nothing but long conversations on dating apps and a few meetups that ultimately went nowhere. But he certainly wasn’t the type to pick people up at bars anymore, nevertheless be picked up.

“Come on, I know you want to get out of here, Dean.” The guy looked like he never blinked, and Dean stared open-mouthed for a moment.

“How did you know my name?” He probably said it too late, but it took him long enough to pick his jaw up off the floor and even get that out, it wasn’t like he could think of anything better in that time. 

“Lucky guess.” The guy said it like it didn’t matter, like it was the most obvious thing in the world, and for a minute, he had Dean believing that it was. “Now, I’ve got a motel two blocks away. You in?”

“Look, man, I don’t do the whole hook-up thing.” Dean adjusted his tie, now regretting the fact that he hadn’t even changed from getting out of the office. If he went home and gave himself another minute to think about it, he might have backed out of this whole deal. 

“You don’t look like you go to bars either, what difference does it make?” The guy asked. He gave half a sigh that disguised what might have been an eye roll, and leaned his arm on the bar, “Look, I’ll pay for your tab. My name’s Sam, we’re not strangers anymore. Let me show you a good time.”

Dean should have picked himself up and left. Alone. But this Sam guy was too intriguing. He had a body probably hand crafted by the gods and he didn’t seem like he was going to budge, not to mention Dean had shoved back the thought of climbing him like a damn tree the second he saw him. 

Still, he wasn’t getting himself kidnapped, he didn’t know or trust the guy, and he didn’t do hookups, he had no clue where he would end up if he just let himself be whisked away. 

“How about you come with me to my place, and then we’re game?” Not to mention if Dean was doing this, he didn’t want to think about where else those motel bed sheets might have been beforehand. 

Sam seemed to weigh the question, weigh his options, but it almost looked like he was putting on a show. He didn’t need to think about it at all, there was an obvious answer. 

“Sure.” Sam finally said, standing up and throwing a twenty onto the bar. Before Dean could protest, he was being whisked out of the bar with a strong hand at his side. 

It was all rather nice, until he got to his car. The ride there was slow and awkward, the evening traffic rush still not having died down, and the man sitting and staring silently at the road in front of them. His posture was almost unnatural, and Dean had to wonder what kind of guy he was taking with him. 

He made a few attempts at small talk, which he was never the best at, but Sam seemed to be so secretive about just everything he asked, he could only really get out of him that he had a brother. He travelled alone, worked odd jobs, Dean couldn’t get anything concrete. 

Things were much better, though, the second they got in the elevator to his apartment. Keycard swiped to send the elevator up, he found himself crowded against the wall, his mouth quickly invaded by the taller man, large fingers in his hair and on his waist, snaking their way down to his ass while they held him in place. 

By the time Dean got a hold of his thoughts enough to place his hands on Sam’s shoulders, the elevator was opened and he had to drag Sam unceremoniously to his door as he struggled with the key slot, finding himself pinned to the inside the second it opened. 

Sam’s hands seemed to be everywhere, yanking on his suspenders to pull him closer and then over his back, his ass, lifting him up so that Dean had to wrap his legs around his waist to prevent himself from dangling there awkwardly. Everything was a rush and it was so blissfully good. 

When Sam finally let him breathe, Dean titled his head back and there were lips and teeth on his throat, biting lightly with just enough pressure that they sent signals all over the place, lighting up his nerves at just the right points. 

Dean’s shoes and jacket were gone by the time they found the bedroom, and Sam’s shirt was abandoned somewhere along the way. He had half the thought to knock the drawer that held lube and condoms with his foot because Sam was not slowing down, it seemed like he moved faster than anyone had any right to. 

Before he could direct himself towards the bed, Sam was back on him, pushing him against the large window that framed the room, unbuttoning his shirt without much care for ripping the threads that attached them. 

Dean’s suspenders and pants were shoved down to his ankles along with his underwear, and Sam pressed him against the window again, thick thigh in between Dean’s to hold him there and give him something to grind on, sensitive and hardening cock against the rough denim of his jeans. 

Sam’s thumbs teased at Dean’s nipples as they kissed again, and soon enough one of those strong fingers was pressing back up against his hole, cold with lube and making him shiver. Repositioning them, Sam yanked Dean’s legs up around his waist again so he was suspended against the window, working his finger in at the same time. 

Everything passed in a whirl of pleasure and Dean could do nothing but follow, manhandled and shoved to the way Sam wanted, another finger added to open him up wider- for once Dean could be glad about his own experimentation when it came to toys, because he was positive this man had to be absolutely packing just going by his fingers alone. 

Dean didn’t even get a chance to see the cock in question, Sam grabbing Dean under the knees to lift them onto his elbows as he folded him in half against the window- it was dark and they were high up, Dean didn’t need to worry about being seen, and yet he was. The thick head was prodding his hole, slicked and rubbered up enough that he could feel at least somewhat safe about it. 

Sam grunted as he pushed himself inside, and Dean’s eyes opened wide, gasping at the large intrusion before he could really settle. He caught a glimpse of the chest in front of him, clinging to Sam’s shoulders. He had a sheen of sweat over him that just accentuated the curve of his muscles, a sunspot pentagram tattoo adorning his chest. 

Dean didn’t have time to consider the absurdity of the fact that he had the same one- gotten it on what had to have been his last night of drinking, he couldn’t remember anything at all from it, but he definitely remembered wanting to quit afterwards- Sam’s length bottomed out inside of him as the man grunted, Dean’s own moan ripping out of him. 

Sam didn’t have mercy, he didn’t take a moment to let Dean adjust or take it slow, he was just fucking Dean at a rough pace, the sound of skin on skin and glass filtering around the room, almost blocking out Sam’s grunts that could have been his name if Dean really had it in him to listen. 

Honestly, Dean had never had it this good before, completely out of his head in the pleasure and able to cling to nothing but that and the solid body keeping him up against the wall, the denim rubbing against his thighs in a way that would probably leave marks, but he didn’t care because it hurt so good. 

Dean didn’t even know when Sam got him on the bed, but he must have because he found himself face down as Sam fucked right into him again, shoving his head into the plush sheets and mattress that were supposed to be good for his back, absolutely wrecking him.

If it weren’t for the feeling of warmth inside him and the telltale swelling of the condom, Dean might not have even known Sam had came, he was almost silent through it and he just kept going, driving Dean towards an orgasm from just the pounding alone. 

Sam was good, though, kept hitting him in just the right place that drove him closer and closer, and that and the friction of the sheets was Dean’s downfall, having him spilling over the light blue material that might stain if he didn’t get it in the dryer right away, but he was too boneless and out of it to care. 

He felt Sam pull out, watched him tidy himself and dispose of the condom out of the corner of his eye. The sound of fabric ruffling and his belt zipping up and Sam looked like he hadn’t just fucked Dean out of his mind, it was almost funny. 

“Thanks.” Sam commented, and Dean opened his mouth to offer a drink, offer his bed, anything really, but Sam cut him off, “It was good, but I have to get going. See you around.”

Something in Dean’s gut let him know that he wouldn’t be seeing this man again, not like this. Like it was a fluke in reality that they ever met in the first place. 

It was twenty minutes before Dean managed to pull himself up and take a shower, cleaning up the clothes that had been abandoned around the room and tossing his sheets in the laundry basket. As he was pulling the fitted sheet onto his bed, he heard his phone buzz. 

There’s some tragic news at Sandover. Paul, one of our employees in the IT department, has sadly passed after an accident involving our microwave after hours. Our condolences go out to his family, and we wish you all well.   
~ Zachariah Adler


End file.
